


Say Something

by orphan_account



Category: Paramore
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talking too much is sometimes better than not talking enough.</p><p>(It’s the alcohol’s fault, really.  At least that’s what Taylor is telling himself.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Something

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back, friends! i've missed you. it's been a weird, rough couple of months. writer's block, finally adjusting to my job, going back to school - all a recipe for not updating in way too long. thanks for your patience with me. <3
> 
> for once, i'm writing a fic about the here and now. we've been getting so much zac and taylor interaction during the 5th album process (i'd like to thank hayley as well as god). they're both 26. imagine this taking place in the summer of 2016, right around the time i'm publishing this. this is loosely based on a conversation a friend and i had back in college, albeit with a different outcome. 
> 
> this fic contains a form of cheating - nothing sexual, but not faithful. if this is something that bothers you, you might want to not read. sorry to baylie and emily. 
> 
> as always, i do not own any of the individuals portrayed in this entirely fictional story. they own themselves. if you are one of these people, please make friends with the back button, don't google yourself, and have a lovely evening with your significant other.

It’s the alcohol’s fault, really. At least that’s what Taylor is telling himself.

He really wishes he didn’t have to get hammered in order to loosen up (the tiniest bit, a drop in a bucket that could be filled with honesty). However, that’s his style, so he’s resigned himself to it. He and Zac have just polished off a bottle of wine between them and are now lying on Taylor’s carpet in his his living room. (Granted, it was a 1.75 liter bottle. They’re not amateurs here.) He hasn’t been this drunk since Parahoy and it shows. When did he become such a lightweight? He used to be able to pound down beer after a stunt like this. It’s a little pathetic, truth be told. He’s trying not to think about it. He’s trying not to think about a lot of things. It’s easier not to think right now, anyway.

“I can’t believe we did that,” Zac says, rolling on his side so he’s facing Taylor.

Taylor is, for some reason, hyper aware of how close Zac is. Sometimes he’s like this when he’s wasted - everything seems so much closer than it is. Zac’s breath smells like wine and he’s probably equally drunk, if not slightly more so. Unlike Taylor, Zac has never been able to handle his liquor, even when they were kids. 

“I can’t believe how shitty I feel,” Taylor says, screwing his eyes shut. “This is gonna suck tomorrow.”

“Whatever about tomorrow,” Zac says. He bops Taylor on the nose, which makes him flinch. “Are you feeling good? Like, toasty?”

“Yeah,” Taylor says, after a minute. Recording has been intense lately, and it feels good to let go the little he can. 

Zac rolls back onto his back. They lie there for a second, staring at the ceiling. He’s always amazed at what a flawless job the guys who designed his living room did with the paint. He’s never had that much precision. For some reason, probably because he’s always thinking about work, he thinks about how exact Zac’s drumming is. He’s gotten even better over the years and it shows. The drums for this record are going to be sick. 

“So,” Zac says, voice determined. Uh oh. “What’s up.”

Oh, okay, not so bad. “Not much. We’re hanging out.”

“Stop being a jackass,” Zac says, as serious as he can ever be. “I mean what’s up your ass? You’ve been real weird lately. I mean, weirder than usual.”

“Fuck you too,” Taylor says in what was meant to be a joking voice, but instead comes out as a snarl. “I don’t know. You have to be more specific.”

“Specific is hard,” Zac says, dragging a hand over his face as if to check if it’s still there. “Uh. Let’s see. Like, you’re work, work, work. Studio, home, studio, home. I feel like this is the first time I’ve seen you outside of the studio in weeks.”

“I go out sometimes,” Taylor says. He feels his defensive streak unfurl in his chest. “We all go to shows.”

“Yeah, but like, that’s not hanging out,” Zac says. “What gives?”

“Alright, alright,” Taylor says, irritation ruffling his feathers. (Now he’s imagining that he has feathers. Heh.) “I don’t know. Working’s easy. I don’t have to think.”

“Think about what?” Zac says, because he’s the most insistent person in the whole world.

“Stuff,” Taylor says. When Zac gives him a look, he sighs. “It’s weird. Like, I have so many good things going on in my life and something’s missing. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“I mean, it’s just you and Hayley now, so that’s probably weird,” Zac suggests. 

Taylor shakes his head. “Nah, I’m over that. He tried to fucking sue us. Not about that Jeremy life right now.”

“That rules that out,” Zac says. “Maybe you’re just missing out on social stuff. You’ve got a girlfriend and everything, how often do you see her?”

Taylor’s stomach seizes up. Baylie. He hasn’t thought about her all week, shooting her a text every once in a blue but not really putting much thought it in. She would text him if it were really bothering her, right? He’s not about to go out of his way. They’re cool. Sure. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Taylor says instead.

“Yeah, I know,” Zac says. “But you have to talk to someone about it. Why not me?”

What does Taylor say to that? They’re guys, that’s not what they do? But he and Zac have always been different. On those nights they used to stay up late when they were kids, their sleeping bags would be close together as they whispered secrets and schemes in the dark. It’s been a while but they’ve been friends again for a few years. He could probably get away with it, even if they’re not kids anymore. Still, there’s something holding him back...

“Can we please talk about something else?” Taylor says, desperate for the subject change.

“Nah,” Zac says. “Emily and I aren’t doing so hot right now. There. Now you have to talk to me.” 

What the hell? No way. “Are you serious? But you guys are perfect. Like gold star, A-plus.” He gives a sloppy thumbs up. “Good job.”

Out of the corner of Taylor’s eye, Zac laughs and rolls his eyes, or at least it seems like he does. Taylor’s vision is going a little blurry. “We’re not though. We’re always teetering on some kind of edge. I feel like I say one little thing and she gets upset. And usually it’s me fucking up. But sometimes I just wonder what it would be like to be single again. I don’t remember it, you know?”

You see, this is the part of Zac that Taylor has struggled to understand since he was a kid. Even when they were huddled in the dark on those late nights, Zac was almost an overshare. He’s so open with how he feels and what he’s going through. Taylor wants to, sure. It knots up in his throat and stings icy cold in his chest, but he gets embarrassed. And Zac is so straightforward and carefree, trusting Taylor with everything. He really does want to return the favor. But it’s still the same after all this time - Zac is almost too important to ruin the vibe with. Taylor’s bullshit doesn’t need to cloud up things. 

“That sucks, dude,” Taylor says, for lack of a better thing to say. Idiot.

“I guess,” Zac says. “I’m not necessarily unhappy, I’m just wondering about other things. That’s fucked up, I know.”

“I mean, everyone wonders about that kind of thing.” He pauses, contemplating his next words. “I wonder about it. Probably more than I should. Now that is fucked up.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Zac speaks again. “Do you think you’re happier without her?”

Truth be told, Taylor’s never really thought about it. He kind of jumped into this thing with her, after things with Aileen went pear shaped. She’s sweet, and funny, and pretty. They look good together. She’s a good companion to concerts and events. Her family is nice. It all should add up to a perfect relationship. But they’ve broken up and gotten back together so many times. Taylor wonders if he’s dating her out of habit or so he’s not lonely. These past few days, he hasn’t missed her. On the other hand, he feels Zac’s arm lined up against his between them. It feels familiar, yet new. It feels like...something. 

Huh.

“I’m not sure,” Taylor says, the words bland on his tongue. “That’s a weird thing to say.” 

Zac sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. My bad.” 

“I didn’t say you were wrong, I just said it was weird,” Taylor snaps, not meaning to. 

“Touchy,” Zac says, comically hurt. “What’s so weird about it?”

This is the other side of the coin, the insistence that Zac’s so good at. It’s only a matter of time before he gets an answer, every time. Something about this time makes Taylor want to answer right away, to explain himself for once.

“It’s weird in that you’re not wrong,” Taylor tries, though that much was probably obvious. “I’m definitely happier without her, but I’m too much of a pussy to break up with her. I’m spending more time with you than I am with her, and I don’t know what to do about that, or about you, or about anything about this situation - I am using the word about a lot -” 

“Who says you have to?” Zac says without missing a beat, that by-now trademark smirk on his face. “Know what to do about me. No, really, besides you.”

“I feel like I used to know, but now I’m not sure,” Taylor says. He hasn’t let himself think about any of this. Headache, headache, red wine headache. “Never mind. I wish I hadn’t said anything. Forget I did.” 

Zac nudges him. “There’s no use getting all worked up about it. Calm down.”

Taylor attempts to growl, the ensuing sound more like a disgruntled purr. “How are you so calm? I basically just told you I like you.”

“I like you too,” Zac says.

“No, fuckface, in the gay way,” Taylor says. “This is what I get for drinking my fuckin’ feelings -”

“Hey fuckface, has it ever occurred to you that maybe I also like you in the gay way? As you so maturely call it.” He probably meant for it to come out joking, but really he just sounds vulnerable, which is not a first, but maybe a second or a third.

“You’re calling me immature,” Taylor says, trying to ease the mood. “Really.”

“You just called me fuckface,” Zac says. His deflecting worked. It feels like they’ve reversed their assigned roles for a second. Two sides of that same coin. Almost the same person. 

“You literally also just called me fuckface,” Taylor says. They’re twenty six and having this detour in the conversation. Of course. He heaves an exaggerated sigh. “I like you in a romantic way, I guess. And I don’t know what the hell that means.”

“I mean, I don’t know what it means either for me, if it makes you feel any better,” Zac says. “You’re not telling me to burn in Hell or running away screaming, so that’s a plus, I guess.”

“I can’t run very far,” Taylor says, the first comeback he can think of, possibly the dumbest.

Zac laughs politely. “At this rate, I could probably run faster. That’s sad.”

“Fuck you too,” Taylor says, meaning it much less this time around. “Gosh, I’m twenty six, you think I’d have something smooth to say right now.”

“You’ll never be smooth in your life,” Zac says.

“Oh damn,” Taylor says, not even thinking about how he’s running his mouth. “I was gonna kiss you just now, but no -”

“Hey, no, I was only kidding,” Zac says, grabbing onto his arm. His hand feels hot on Taylor’s skin. “Were you really?”

He had kind of just said that to get a rise out of Zac because it’s fun. But then again, maybe he was going to? After a moment’s deliberation, he rolls over onto his side to get a good look at Zac. 

As if reading Taylor’s mind, Zac rolls over on his side to look at him. They’re kind of just staring at each other now, their silence stretching into the realm of discomfort. Taylor’s never taken the time to notice Zac’s eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, the tiny little freckles on his face, barely noticeable amidst his olive skin. He’s thinner now, thinner than he’s ever been, but he still has the slightest bit of pudge that Taylor wants to squeeze. He smiles and looks away and fuck, Taylor definitely likes him in the gay way.

With a shallow breath in, Taylor kisses him.

It’s a light touch, barely there, but Taylor’s stomach is expanding and contracting with each passing second. When he goes to pull away, Zac brings his hand up to his chin and keeps him there, stealing another kiss, and a third, and a fourth. Taylor senses Zac’s trepidation, and it’s kind of a relief. He wants to go further, but he’s also scared. All he’s trying to concentrate on is the two of them in this moment, the closeness they’re getting.

“You make me happy,” Zac says (whispers, really, in this huge empty house) when they part. “For what it’s worth.”

“Yeah, same,” Taylor says. He’s already said a lot tonight anyway. 

They pause for a second before sharing a laugh, leaning in for another kiss. It feels clumsy, like they should be doing this better, but Taylor can’t bring himself to care. Of course, there’s a lot to think about. They both have girlfriends. They’re both just starting to be as close and trusting again. Hell, they’re both guys, which is something Taylor’s not even going to touch. But there’s something that hangs in their balance, their imperfect symmetry, that he can grasp as his drunk starts to fade. 

“Promise you won’t regret this tomorrow?” he says.

“Promise,” Zac says. “Can we sleep now? I’m tired.”

“Yeah, sure,” Taylor says. “Want to go to my room?”

Zac shakes his head. “Here is fine. Light’s dim enough. The carpet’s nice. Those guys did a good job.”

“Right?” Taylor says. He puts his hand on the small of Zac’s back and pulls him closer, burying his face in his shoulder. “You smell like sweat.”

“You also need a shower,” Zac says, breathing in. “Good night now. Stop talking.”

“Okay,” Taylor says, knowing they’ll talk well into the night. For once, he’s happy he said something.

**Author's Note:**

> and that's all she wrote. as always, i'm reachable at my tumblr [toallofourfavoriteparts](http://toallofourfavoriteparts.tumblr.com), so feel free to add me there. so much love.
> 
> xo, m


End file.
